


a moment of peace

by penhaligon



Category: Keys to the Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penhaligon/pseuds/penhaligon
Summary: A Noon and a Dusk argue about who is going to carry the Rightful Heir up to bed.





	a moment of peace

It had been quiet for some time. As Arthur had predicted, the presence of the Keys and reinforcements, among them Dame Primus, seemed enough to keep the Piper and his New Nithlings at bay. The enemy kept to their trench lines, and very little stirred on the tiles to west or north or south.

Orders were coming from Dame Primus now, which mostly involved keeping a sharp eye out and investigating the location of the Nothing spike to ensure that it had been destroyed. Arthur himself was still fast asleep against the battlement, and Marshal Dusk didn't stray far as he issued orders of his own, keeping the boy in his sights.

The Legionaries and Borderers that he'd summoned had only just arrived, milling close by as they waited for further instruction, when something moved near Arthur in the corner of Dusk's eye.

Dusk's head snapped around, and the Legionaries and Borderers stiffened as Wednesday's Noon strode across the rampart and crouched down next to Arthur. His hand hovered over Arthur's shoulder and hesitated there, and Dusk hastily excused himself from the Corporal he'd been talking to. He came up behind Noon, pointedly clearing his throat. General mistrust between Dawns, Noons, and Dusks of differing demesnes was standard practice, except in such times as when their Morrow Days were working together, and even then.

"I don't wish to wake him," Noon said over his shoulder, his voice softer than Dusk was expecting after the bellowing during the battle. "But this isn't no place to sleep. Is there someplace I can bring him?"

It wasn't what Dusk had presumed, but upon a moment's consideration, it was a good idea, and Dusk regretted not acting on it sooner. "The bedroom belonging to the previous Sir Thursday will suffice," he said, ignoring the pang at the mention of his former commander-in-chief. "But there is no need for you to step in. I will bring him."

"I can do it," Noon said. His hovering over Arthur took on a proprietorial air as he frowned over his shoulder and up at Dusk. The sunburst tattoos on his face caught the very last of the evening light.

Dusk's lips pressed together into a thin line. "Wednesday's Noon–-" he began formally.

"Sunscorch," Noon -- or Sunscorch -- interjected. "Not used to fancy titles yet."

Dusk blinked. "Sunscorch," he began again. "Sir Arthur--"

"He prefers just Arthur," Sunscorch informed him.

" _Arthur_ is my commander-in-chief," Dusk said, icy in his exasperation. "As long as we are in the Great Maze, responsibility for his care falls to me."

Sunscorch didn't move. He appeared unimpressed by this line of reasoning. "He's mine too. And I've known him longer than you, so." Sunscorch turned away from Dusk and back to Arthur, as if that settled matters.

Perhaps it did, Dusk thought, as he opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. If he pressed the issue, Sunscorch would no doubt press back, and they might wake Arthur with it. Something told Dusk that Arthur would not be happy to see them arguing over something like this, either. That was truly what gave Dusk pause.

What would Arthur do in this situation? He'd tried to talk to the Piper, and he'd let the New Nithlings go. It was abundantly clear what he'd do.

"Very well," Dusk said grudgingly. "But I will accompany you."

Sunscorch shrugged, like it didn't matter to him either way, but still he hovered uncertainly over Arthur. Dusk followed his wary gaze down to the Fourth Key in Arthur's belt. Even from where Dusk stood, he could feel its power buzzing uncomfortably. To touch it would no doubt be a painfully one-time experience.

"Best pick him up from the other side," Sunscorch said lightly and moved so that he would not be in any danger of accidentally brushing up against the Key.

Arthur didn't entirely wake, but his eyes fluttered and he flinched violently when Sunscorch grabbed him.

"Easy now," Sunscorch said, and his soft voice was once again at odds with his general appearance. "It's just old Sunscorch."

Perhaps he _was_ slightly better suited for this, Dusk thought, again rather grudgingly. Sunscorch scooped Arthur up, arms under his back and legs, and Arthur settled back down and curled into the Denizen's hold. The sight was so incongruous that Dusk stared and didn't realize he was doing so until Sunscorch paused with Arthur secured in his arms and stared right back at Dusk.

"He is..." Dusk began, before he could stop himself, and he tried to find the right words for the oddity of the sight, "... small."

Sunscorch chuckled, gold teeth flashing. "That he is. Thought he'd be taller, eh?"

Dusk kept the rest of his thoughts to himself and motioned for the nearby Legionaries and Borderers to fall in line. They made their way to the Star Fort: Dusk leading the way, Sunscorch behind him with Arthur, and the protective detail clustered around them, as much to give the sleeping Rightful Heir some privacy as it was to prevent any potential assassins from getting a hit in. They weren't hailed along the way, though Dusk expected Dame Primus to track them down at any moment. She didn't, however, and soon enough they arrived at Thursday's chamber.

The Legionaries and Borderers were instructed to stay outside the door, and Sunscorch carried Arthur in. Dusk was on his heels, and he surveyed the room critically, as if there could be something hiding in the wardrobe or behind the armchairs. "Perhaps we should have a detail inside..." he muttered.

"Don't believe he'd care for that," Sunscorch said. "The Key will protect him well enough, I reckon."

Once again, Dusk found himself conceding, and Sunscorch gently lay Arthur down on Thursday's large bed. The boy stirred again, his bleary eyes blinking open.

"Let's get this off," Sunscorch said amiably, tugging at the cuirass that Arthur was wearing. "Up you go."

Arthur groaned quietly as he rose with the tugging, letting Sunscorch unbuckle the cuirass and pull it off. Dusk didn't think that Arthur was actually cognizant of much, with the way he drooped and leaned into the Denizen. Sunscorch set the cuirass aside and eyed the regimental private's uniform underneath, which was dirty and torn in places.

Ordinarily, matters like this would fall to a Corporal, but Dusk was feeling a little out of place at his own post, and so he marched over to the wardrobe and returned a moment later with regimental pajamas in hand. "I will handle this," he said, when Sunscorch made as if to take the pajamas. Sunscorch nodded and stepped away to tug the covers back.

Arthur was just conscious enough to make it a little less like dressing a particularly loose-limbed mannequin, and Dusk moved gingerly, like he was holding glass, partly because of the Key and partly because Arthur seemed to border on breakable. Even if Arthur had something of a Denizen look to him now, he was still more or less mortal, and Dusk knew little of mortals. They seemed fragile to him, or at least, at the moment, this one did, slumped and small.

And he _was_ so very small. Up close and practically unconscious, it was somewhat alarming. Arthur hardly seemed to notice or care who helped him to change into pajamas. He couldn't defend himself in this state, Dusk thought. The Key would protect him from ill intent, yes, but it wasn't infallible. Did mortals really leave themselves so defenseless _every_ night?

Dusk had been in this room many times to deliver morning reports to Sir Thursday. This was so very different, he thought, as he eased Arthur back onto the bed and the boy immediately curled into the pillows. Thursday would never have allowed himself to be so vulnerable. The air of this room was never so calm, so devoid of fraught tension and resigned expectation that the messenger would receive the vanguard assault of Thursday's anger.

Thursday would never have extended mercy to the Piper or his Children and Nithlings, either. Perhaps not even before, when he had been less angry, though it had been long enough that Dusk remembered those days with less clarity than he liked.

Dusk stepped back, struck with uncertainty for reasons unknown to him, so Sunscorch took the covers and draped them over Arthur. He nodded to himself.

"Better," he said.

For a moment, the two of them stared down at the sleeping boy, who was nearly swallowed by the size of the bed.

"He is not what I expected," Dusk ventured at last, because this was now a room in which thoughts could be freely expressed.

Stories and rumors of a Rightful Heir had persisted in the House for many years, all grandiose and easy, and the most recent ones were not accurate, to say the least. Compared to their usual flavor, Dusk had never imagined disobeying a direct order or throwing himself between Thursday's wrath and a small mortal child. Had never imagined betraying one commander for another.

Sunscorch nodded and said, fondly, "He _is_ a runt."

Dusk leveled a disapproving look at him, but Sunscorch ignored it.

When they left the bedroom, Dusk ordered the Legionaries and Borderers, a tad unnecessarily, to keep a close watch without disturbing Sir Arthur, while Sunscorch's attention was caught by a runner. The runner was already departing by the time Dusk stepped past the protective detail, and Sunscorch looked troubled.

"Dame Primus wants me to report back," he said, ambling down the hallway. "Figure she'll send me back to the Border Sea." He glanced at the door to the bedroom as he spoke.

Dusk's eyes flicked back as well, as he fell into step beside Sunscorch, heading in the same direction with the same intent to report to Dame Primus. "We must attend to our posts," he said diplomatically. "Si-- Arthur is safe with us."

"The Piper's army came awfully close to overrunning this place," Sunscorch said, but so gravely that Dusk couldn't find it in himself to take offense. Sunscorch gave him a sideways glance. "I don't mean anything personal by that. Just something to keep in mind."

Dusk nodded. They might very well have lost the day had it not been for the reinforcements. "I appreciate your concern for him," he said and meant it. "And your assistance."

"Well, you know where to find me if the need arises again," Sunscorch said, offering a nod in return.

It was surprisingly comfortable to walk alongside a Noon, Dusk thought, and to worry about his commander for reasons not along the lines of what that commander might do. It was not grandiose or expected, and to worry about a fragile mortal's safety was another thing entirely, what with nearly a million enemies out beyond the Citadel.

But somehow, despite those things and perhaps because no wrath stalked their halls any longer, it was peaceful for the first time in ten thousand years, even if only for a night.

**Author's Note:**

> Dusk: Does he even weigh anything to you?  
> Sunscorch: No. It's like holding a couple of grapes.
> 
> I think about the interim between Books 4 and 5 sometimes.


End file.
